by Amy Andrews
Cole blinked at the disappointment in her voice. “You don’t like asking for help.”
“It’s not that. I just…I don’t know, it’s a matter of pride, I guess. And it’s one of those jobs that come along so rarely. I was looking forward to being the person responsible for its restoration. I wanted to do it all by myself.” She turned her eyes on him. “You know what I mean?”
Cole nodded. He understood exactly. He’d been part of a team his whole working life, giving and taking. Celebrating in victory, commiserating in defeat. But he also knew that teamwork was underpinned by individual performances and that was an individual responsibility.
This was clearly a matter of pride for her, and he, maybe better than anyone right now, understood injured pride.
She was doing an awful lot of things solo, though. Maybe she could benefit from a little teamwork. “I could look after Finn for the next few weeks.”
Chapter Five
Cole stared as the words that had spilled from his mouth hung suspended between them. It was almost comical how round Jane’s eyes went in her face. Bloody hell. Where the fuck had that come from?
“What?” she asked with an incredulous kind of half laugh.
Maybe it was the note of disbelief in that laugh, but the idea was firming up into a certainty in Cole’s head. “Sure. Why not?” All he was doing was sitting on his arse, contemplating his navel, and feeling sorry for himself. Maybe if he was fully occupied, he wouldn’t have time to dwell on the fact he wasn’t ever going to be part of a team again. “I watched him all afternoon, and, in case you haven’t noticed, I’m not exactly busy.”
“But…” She was staring at him now like he’d grown a horn on his head. “That was an afternoon. Not however long it might be till Tad gets his ass back here, which, knowing him, could be a couple of weeks.”
“I don’t have anywhere to be.” He was in the running for a TV commentary job - following in the footsteps of many a pro-baller after their career had tanked – but he’d not heard anything yet, despite checking in regularly with his agent.
She shook her head. “What in the hell do you know about looking after a four-year-old?”
“Well…I don’t have a degree in childcare or anything, but I’m pretty sure I can figure out how to keep him fed, happy, and alive until the end of the day.”
She gave a brief snort. And then, just because the universe liked to tempt him, she said around the lip of her bottle, “That’s comforting.”
Ignoring that particularly weird form of temptation, Cole plunged on. “All I’m saying is Finn and I can hang out together during the day. That should free you up to do your work and get the job completed on time without having to work all hours of the night.”
It really bugged Cole that Jane was working her arse off every night hunched over floor tiles so she could give Finn all her time during the day and still get the job done. She was a single mother with a small child—surely she was exhausted enough? His mother had been constantly tired from his boundless energy and no one with whom to share the load.
“So…what? You’re going to watch copious amounts of sports, drink beer, and hop him up on juice and Pop-Tarts?”
“Of course not.” Not all the time, anyway.
“Kids need to be active, Cole.” Her lips formed a disapproving little moue again. “Especially someone like Finn. He needs exercise. He needs to be stimulated.”
“Of course.” He nodded enthusiastically. “Exercise, check. Stimulated, check.”
“How do you plan on doing that?”
“We’ll go on walks every day. I need to do that for my hip, anyway.” She glanced at his hip, and Cole swore he could feel a surge of warmth to the damaged joint, easing the almost-constant ache. “We can go to the park,” he continued. “And we’ll take his bug catcher and catch crickets for Carl. And I think there’s a library somewhere, too.”
“Uh-huh.” She folded her arms, her beer bottle clasped firmly in one hand. “And how do you walk with a child?”
Cole frowned. Was this some kind of trick question? “One foot…in front of…the other?”
She gave an annoyed little shake of her head, her ponytail swishing against her nape. He wondered what she’d do if he leaned in and pressed a kiss right there, but then he realized she was talking and he’d better not miss a word. She was all schoolmistress again, and he already knew she didn’t suffer fools gladly.
“You walk on the outside so you’re closest to the traffic.”
Okay, that made sense. “Fine, I’ll walk on the outside.”
“And he needs to hold your hand. He won’t want you to, because he’ll insist he’s a big boy, but he has more energy than sense sometimes and forgets frequently that he has to stay close, because he has the memory of a goldfish, and he’ll just take off on you without giving any thought to the consequences.”
“I’ll hold his hand.”
“And don’t let him lick the paint on the fence railings.”
Cole blinked. “He licks paint?” What the fuck? “Why does he lick paint?”
“I don’t know.” She bugged her eyes at him. “He’s a boy; you tell me. Because it’s there?” She sighed. “I think because so much of it is peeling off everywhere and it looks like snowflakes.”
“Okay.” Cole held up his hands in surrender. “I’ll keep him away from the railings.”
“I know that makes me sound like some pathetic helicopter mom, but I have no idea how old it is.” Her voice softened, and her cheeks looked a little pink as she justified her strange request. “There could be lead in it.”
“Okay, okay.” He nodded. That made sense. “No paint licking. I promise.”
She also nodded, her arms dropping out of their fold as she took another mouthful of her drink. “And what else would you do?” she prompted as she rested the beer against her knee. “How does a thirty-two-year old ex–rugby professional with no children keep a four-year-old entertained without the use of television and junk food?”
Cole probably shouldn’t be flattered that she knew stuff about him he hadn’t divulged, but he was. He sat back a little, smiling at her. “You googled me?”
“You’re living under the same roof as my son. Of course I googled you.”
If that was meant to deflate his ego, it didn’t. She’d googled him. He grinned bigger, and she rolled her eyes. “Well?” she prompted.
Oh yes…entertainment. Stimulation. “I don’t know. But I have the whole damn internet in my pocket.” He pulled out his phone and waved it around a bit. “I’m sure I’ll figure it out.” She regarded his phone disparagingly. “Look, Jane… I’m just trying to help here.”
“Why? Why would you offer to do this? We’ve known each other for less than a week, and you’re volunteering to be the manny.”
Manny? He grimaced at the term—they’d have to work on a new word for it, but that was secondary right now. “Because…Finn’s a good kid, and I’m not doing anything, and because…my mum did everything solo, too, and she’d have killed for a bit of help.”
“Your parents were divorced?”
“Officially, no. My dad was around. Every now and then. But not particularly helpful when he did deign to grace us with his presence. So I…understand a little of what you’re going through, that’s all.”
She regarded him for long moments. “Well…thank you. But still…looking after someone else’s kid is a big ask. I have friends I wouldn’t ask. I couldn’t ask it of you.”
“You didn’t ask. I offered.”
“Cole.” She sighed, exasperation in her voice, but also, if he wasn’t very much mistaken, a tiny note of possibility. A whiff of temptation.
Jumping on the slight weakening he’d detected, Cole put forward a compromise. “Okay, how about this? A trial.”
He had no idea why he was trying so damn hard to c
onvince this woman he could do this, but it was suddenly imperative he did. And not just for her. Maybe having to look after someone else’s needs all day would take his mind off his own sorry state.
“Give me a day to prove I can do it. See how I do tomorrow, and then we can reassess tomorrow night. Hell, we can have an ongoing review process, if you like. This time every night, out here on the stairs, over a beer.” He angled his beer bottle in her direction. “What do you say?”
She searched his face earnestly for long moments. “Are you sure?”
There was definite weakening now. “Positive.” He nudged his bottle closer. “What do you say? Cheers to a regular review process?”
Cole saw the exact moment she let all her objections slide away. Her shoulders relaxed, her face smoothed out, and a slight smile touched her mouth, making her lips even harder to ignore. She angled her beer towards him and clinked the neck of her bottle against the neck of his. “Cheers to a trial. And a regular review process.”
He laughed. Even in her capitulation, she wanted to wear the pants. Not an image he needed right now. “Yes, ma’am.”
It was fascinating to watch the way her eyes went all round as he ma’amed her, and he smiled a little as she looked away awkwardly, turning her gaze to the ever-darkening yard as she took a deep swallow of her beer. It took several beats before she glanced at him again, her expression perfectly neutral.
“Thank you. I really—”
Swooping in quickly, Cole kissed her, cutting off that A-word he knew was coming before it even got off the starting block. It hadn’t been his most well-thought-through plan, but he couldn’t bear hearing how much she appreciated him again.
Sure, he’d been thinking about kissing her a lot lately. But not like this. Not as a…deterrent. Although the slight, garbled “Oh” sound she’d made when their lips met stirred his blood.
Neither of them moved. Not their mouths or anything else, for that matter. They just stayed like that, two humans joined at the lips while insects trilled and Betty barked somewhere over the fence and night fell. Her lips were cool, and she tasted like beer, and, for someone who was so still he was barely breathing, Cole’s heart cartwheeled behind his ribcage.
Stop kissing her. Stop kissing her. Stop kissing her, dickhead.
Finally, the frantic signals from his brain made their way to his muscles, and Cole reluctantly dragged himself out of the kiss, pulling back to his side of the divide, wondering for a confused second why their lips were still joined, only to realize she was following his retreat with her own advance, clearly reluctant to let his mouth go.
And that stirred his dick.
She, too, broke away, however, and then they were staring at each other, close enough to go back for more but neither making a move as they breathed heavily into the night air. If anything, Cole’s pulse had become louder.
“What was that for?” she asked, straightening up, increasing the distance between them.
Cole almost laughed at the slight tone of accusation in her voice. She was the one who’d chased his mouth across the space between them, apparently reluctant to stop. “I couldn’t stand to hear you say the word appreciate one more time.”
“How did you know I was going to say that?”
Cole quirked his eyebrow. “I’m developing a bit of ESP where you’re concerned.”
He braced himself for her to deny it, but she didn’t. Maybe she knew the sudden bloom of color on her cheeks had given her away. “So you…kissed me?”
“Yeah…I’m sorry about that.” He looked away, staring blindly into the darkening recesses beneath the oak tree as he shoved a hand through his hair. “It was the fastest thing I could think of to stop you.”
Probably because kissing her had been on his mind waaaay too much.
She didn’t look like she believed him, but she obviously decided not to take a deep dive into his motivations. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
“I know.” Not least because now he wanted to do it again. He’d gotten the tiniest taste, and already he wanted more. Who needed Vicodin when there was kissing?
“Don’t do it again.”
Cole nodded. “I won’t.” Even if it killed him, he wouldn’t. There was no chance of this being a thing. That wouldn’t necessarily bother him when kissing a woman. He’d kissed a lot of women where being a thing wasn’t on either party’s agenda. But he already knew this woman was different. He could still hear that little oh whispering in his blood.
So, absolutely no kissing allowed.
“I’ve got to get back to work,” she announced before draining her beer in a couple of long swallows and standing. Cole stayed where he was wondering, if someone handed him a rewind device right now, if he’d go back and undo that moment.
Not kiss Jane.
He wasn’t entirely sure he would. Hell, he’d apologized only moments ago, and he wasn’t entirely sure he was sorry. She started down the stairs, and Cole frowned. The red sitting room was behind them. “Where are you going?”
“Just grabbing the kitchen stuff off the grass.”
“I can get it.”
She looked over her shoulder at him. “I’m up, and it’s dark out there.” Her gaze swept over his hip and rested briefly on his cane propped on the steps beside him before she returned her gaze to his face. She shrugged. “I don’t mind.”
A sudden spike of irritation at both his limitations and her judgment of them had him growling. He could pick up some damn things off the grass. “I said leave it.”
“I don’t m—”
“I’ll get it.” He had a limp. He wasn’t blind.
She looked like she was going to argue but stopped herself at the last second. “Fine.”
Turning around, she headed up the stairs to the house. Her foot paused on the second-to-last step, and she opened her mouth as she glanced down at him. Cole had a bad feeling she was about to tell him to be careful, but his face must’ve looked even more darkly forbidding than it felt, and her mouth closed as she continued on her way, giving him a wide berth.
“See you in the morning,” she said instead.
And then she was gone, leaving nothing but the lingering scent of her in the night air and the taste of her on his tongue.
Morning? Yeah, right.
Cole had no doubt he’d be seeing her before then, because, for damn sure, Jane Spencer and that kiss and the little oh and the way she’d followed his retreat—chased his mouth for more—were going to star in his dreams tonight.
…
Jane worked until ten, when she could barely keep her eyes open any longer.
Up until now, she’d have just pushed through, but the prospect of having all day tomorrow to work on the floor was a tantalizing one, and she called it quits. Hell, she was so tired she didn’t even have a shower, just stripped down to her underwear, pulled on her tank top, and collapsed on the bed to the sound of Finn’s snoring. Then proceeded to lay awake for the next two hours thinking about Cole. Thinking about his offer to mind Finn. Thinking about his determination to prove he was capable.
Thinking about…that kiss.
She squeezed her eyes shut as it played in her mind over and over again. As the way she’d chased his lips, clinging to them even as he’d tried to withdraw, played over and over in her head. God…what had she been thinking?
Of course, the answer to that was she hadn’t been thinking. She’d only been feeling. A lot. Everywhere. The first thing had been shock. The kiss had come out of the blue, and she’d been too stunned to move or react. To push him away or to pull back. She’d just…frozen as the warm, male aroma of him had filled her nostrils and brushed against her skin.
Her nipples had gone hard. She remembered that. Remembered the tight pucker of them and how they’d scraped against the fabric of her bra in the most wonderful friction. It had felt…d
elicious. And then her synapses had started to function as sensation spread farther and farther, like ripples in a pond, and a heady rush of pure sexual delight swamped her body.
It had been a long time since she’d been kissed. There had been no time or inclination since Tad had walked away. A single mother building her own business had more pressing things to prioritize. And honestly? She hadn’t missed it.
Not kissing or sex or intimacy. Not even male company. Someone to wake her at five in the morning with an urgent swelling problem, someone to deliberately leer at her as she was getting dressed, someone to send her completely inappropriate NSFW texts about what he wanted to do with her when they were alone.
The truth was she’d been far too tired for sexual acrobatics.
And then Cole Hauser had kissed her, and she’d felt so very not tired. She’d felt very, very awake. Her head had been screaming at her to push him away, slap his face, show him how dangerous a pair of needle-nose pliers could be to his jugular, but there’d been a cataclysmic brain/body disconnect.
Her body had been on a roller coaster. Her heart had somersaulted, and her stomach had looped the loop, and she hadn’t wanted to stop and get off. And when he’d started to withdraw, she’d clung to him as long as she could because she was more alive than she’d been in such a long, long time. Hell, had she ever been this alive?
But, damn it, she’d had to stop. They didn’t know each other. Cole was a guest in this house and this town, as was she. And in a few weeks, she’d be back in California, and he’d be in Australia, or god knew where, and her life and her business and family were all here, and single mothers didn’t get the luxury of casual relationships.
Christ, daydreaming about a kiss that hadn’t been much more than a peck on the mouth was ludicrous. She’d be carving their initials into a tree next. Or pulling petals off flowers, muttering, he loves me, he loves me not.
Grabbing the spare pillow, Jane stuffed it over her face and let out a long, silent scream. It didn’t help. Removing the pillow, she sucked in deep, calming breaths and ordered herself to go to sleep.
